


Tailor of Enbizaka

by Kasuna_Kotonoha



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angelica is Van Rensselaer, Angelica is a tailor, Based on a Vocaloid Song, Creepy, Eliza is Hamilton, F/M, Halloween, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Peggy is Schuyler, The Schuyler sisters are not related, They use different last names, and Alexander is Faucette, and so does Alexander, not really Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27296308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasuna_Kotonoha/pseuds/Kasuna_Kotonoha
Summary: “Good morning Ms…”“Van Rensselaer.”“I’m Alexander Facuette.”She was polite, but inside she was seething. Was he really pretending to not recognize her?Well then.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/Margaret "Peggy" Schuyler (Not really), Alexander Hamilton/Maria Reynolds, Angelica Schuyler & Catherine Van Rensselaer Schuyler (1734-1803), John Barker Church/Angelica Schuyler
Kudos: 7





	Tailor of Enbizaka

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone!

**In Enbizaka, one young woman runs a shop**

**Bearing a flair for tailoring rarely come across**

**Sharper than sharpened scissors,**

**and seeming beyond the seams**

**She’s called the envy of all the community**

Sitting on a major street in New York City was a tailor shop. It was run by a woman named Angelica Van Rensselaer, having been taught by her mother Catherine and taking control of the shop when she died.

Ms.Van Rensselaer was beautiful, smart, witty, and loyal, pretty much everything you could want in a partner.

Her sharp mind was her greatest asset. She had a mind for business, for bargaining, that put many people to shame. 

**Surely she’d be perfect if not for her partner’s acts**

**That sole thing holding her**

**back cheats behind her back**

**“Even with somebody like**

**me fastened by an oath,**

**He’d rather lie with and lie that he’s coming home!”**

She was standing at her worktable in the main space when she looked out the shop's large front windows and saw him.

Alexander Faucette.

He passed by almost everyday, going to, she assumed, work, the market square or the paper shop. He was always carrying that bag of his, and she could sometimes see his purchase sticking out. 

She only knew his name because he’d gotten stuck in her shop during a storm once. Ever since then, he’d come in on occasions to get his clothing mended, whether that be redoing a seam or darning his socks or whatever. 

He was handsome, sure, but that wasn’t why Angelica took particular interest with him.

**But as always, “Concentrate”**

**I say and stay working**

**Scissors clutched tightly**

**while I cut deep into the deed**

**Mother’s blades I’ve trained to**

**raise as right as she raised me,**

**Sharpen them well and they’ll**

**sweep cleaner to your needs**

_ “Remember dear, always keep your scissors sharp. They cut much more cleanly when you do.” _

_ “The fabric won’t snag as much, right?” _

_ “Exactly, darling! Here, why don’t I show you.” _

**In Enbizaka, the hush has become routine**

**For spending yet another**

**morning conformed in peace**

**Then I saw him on the street,**

**gleaming with delight**

**Who might she be, the lady I**

**see standing at your side?**

**Beautiful and prim with**

**a crimson kimono on,**

**Like I’d expect, you’re friendly**

**with everything you’d ever want**

**Viewing the two at ease left**

**me desperate to get away**

**I hurried home, growing**

**urge to forsake the trade**

Angelica was out running some personal errands. Across the street, she saw it.

Alexander was walking down the opposite side of the street, a woman in a red dress on his arm. She was fairly petite, wavy, chocolate brown hair pinned back on one side, the rest covering one of her brown eyes. She was pretty, no doubt, but Angelica was still seething for some unexplainable reason.

She hurried back to her shop, messily depositing her groceries on the back counter. She surveyed her shop, the workstation, her fabrics, the wall hanger of thread.

She held her scissors in hand, opening and closing them slowly.

**But as always, “Concentrate”**

**I say and stay working**

**Scissors clutched tightly**

**while I cut deep into the deed**

**Toiling on and spoiling not**

**those sorry drops of sorrow,**

**I seat the kimono and sew**

**freshly fixed clothes**

**Stuck with a budding rumor,**

**the public’s all abuzz**

**Word is last night a crime**

**occurred, wonder what it was?**

“Good morning, Mr.Burr, how might I help you today?”

“I need some clothes mended.”

“May I see them? Thank you. Now, what work do you need done?”

It was a quick job, so Aaron stayed as she worked.

“By the way, did you hear?”

“Here what?” she asked, tugging at the thread on one of his daughters' dresses.

“A woman was murdered last night. Maria Lewis?”

“First I’ve heard. I haven’t checked the paper yet.”

“Well, it's all anyones talking about right now. There are currently no suspects, no leads, nothing.”

“Well that certainly is troubling. By the way, did you want this dress…”

She finished mending the clothes, folding them neatly and handing them back.

“Here you go, have a nice day.”

“You too, Ms.Van Rensselaer.”

She watched him leave, a peculiar glint in her eyes.

**Following him to the bridge**

**offered me an awful sight**

**Who might she be, the lady I**

**see standing at your side?**

**Strangely, today he frowned, but**

**I doubt that he’ll drown in pain**

**Not with that pretty haired**

**woman coming to his aid**

**Fine like the emerald obi tied**

**tightly ‘round her waist,**

**Ah, she’s the dream of a**

**girl suited to your taste**

She was out for a walk when she saw him again. He was standing on the bridge, elbows resting on the railing. Next to him..

The woman was pale, glossy black hair cascading down her back. Her dress was of an emerald teal color, well suited to her.

Alexander looked pretty despondent, and the woman was patting his arm sympathetically. 

Angelica didn’t stick around. She doubted Alexander would be sad about Ms.Lewis for long, not when he had someone like that woman in the greed dress.

Well, that could be changed.

**But as always, “Concentrate”**

**I say and stay working**

**Scissors clutched tightly**

**while I cut deep into the deed**

**Wiping at my reddened eyes,**

**I’d benefit to quit that**

**Grabbing the obi, I refashion the sash**

**Seems like our little village**

**is starting to come undone**

**Guess that there’s been a second**

**crime, wonder where it was?**

“Ah, it’s good to see you, reverend.”

“Ms.Van Rensselaer. I just need some socks fixed. Say, have you heard the news?”

“Oh? What of it?”

“Ms. Elizabeth Hamilton was found dead last night.”

“Oh no, really?”

“Yes. It was quite gruesome, from what I understand. People think she might be connected to Ms.Lewis’s death last week?”

“Really? What makes them say that?”

“Mainly that they’re both women, and only a week apart.”

“What do you think?”

“It’s possible, I suppose, but who would want to kill them?”

“That is the question, isn’t it. Here you go, Mr.Seabury.”

“Thank you.”

**I saw him at the hairpin**

**shop with the reason why**

**Who might she be, the lady I**

**see standing at your side?**

**“Maybe it isn’t so”, I think,**

**noting how young she is**

**Though, that golden hairpin**

**he buys implies a gift**

**You’d prefer a girl like**

**her, even at that age?**

**You’d sooner have her than**

**your wife, have you any shame?**

She wasn’t out walking for once the last time she saw him. Alexander entered the hair pins shop across the street, a young lady in yellow on his arm.

Her hair was cinnamon colored, and curly, tied up in a high ponytail. She had an air of youth and innocents about her.

But what really threw her off was how young she was. She couldn’t have been older than eighteen, and Alexander was over thirty. 

He and the girl left the shop, and Angelica noticed a new hairpin, a gold flower, glittering in her hair.

**But as always, “Concentrate”**

**I say and stay working**

**Scissors clutched tightly**

**while I cut deep into the deed**

**How odd, were my scissors**

**always covered in this color?**

**No concern I must return to my hard work**

The death of Margarita, also known as Peggy, Schuyler shook the town most of the three deaths. By now, most women didn’t dare go out after dark unless they had a man with them.

Angelica thought it was ridiculous. She worked past dark anyway, so she couldn’t afford to be scared being out after dark.

She could take care of herself. 

**Once a draft and at last complete,**

**I’ve created a masterpiece**

**You won’t show, but I know**

**you just need a bit of help**

**Please be patient as I**

**leave to find you myself**

**”Scissors, not scissor”**

**my mother would say to me,**

**“Like a man and his wife,**

**teamed for eternity”**

_ “A husband and wife must always be faithful to one another, Angelica.” _

_ “What about you and daddy?” _

_ Catherine chuckled. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that. Now, a married couple is much like scissors. Always plural, right? And one half needs the other to work.” _

_ “But wouldn’t each part of the scissors become like a knife?” _

_ “Yes, but not quite. A pair of scissors separated like this cease to be scissors. And a knife and scissors have different functions, different uses.” _

**The crimson kimono**

**and emerald obi,**

**Go perfect with this golden pin,**

**I put each on and beam**

**Those presents present you**

**with a woman unbeatable**

**Don’t you love it?**

**Aren’t I beautiful?**

**…Sounds like our simple town**

**was brought down to its knees**

**Somebody has killed a**

**man, wonder what it means**

Alexander Faucette was dead. For once, Angelica didn’t hear about it through other people, but from the paper. It was sad, four people being killed in the span of only two weeks, but Angelica didn’t really care.

She had her shop to run, and a life to live.

**Luckily, there’s no grief**

**from his happy family**

**Tragically, each has died**

**in the crime of the century**

**Yes, it’s a tad sad, but more**

**so are the things he said**

**“Hello” and “I don’t think we’ve met”**

**just what went through his head**

**Treating me like somebody he'd never seen**

**Treating me like somebody he'd never seen?!**

_ “Good morning Ms…” _

_ “Van Rensselaer.”  _

_ “I’m Alexander Facuette.” _

_ She was polite, but inside she was seething. Was he really pretending to not recognize her? _

_ Well then. _

**But as always, “Concentrate”**

**I say and stay working**

**Scissors clutched tightly**

**while I cut deep into the deed**

**Even if these scissors**

**have a habit for bleeding,**

**Sharpen them well and they’ll**

**sweep cleaner to your needs**

***

_ Angelica stared in horror at the sight of John's burnt body. The house before her burned, every inch engulfed in flames.  _

_ She was powerless to do anything except watch as her home and family burned to the ground. _

_ She followed the police investigation as best as she could, and the conclusions came down to one name, and one name only _

_ Alexander Faucette. _

_ Alexander Faucette _

_ Alexander Faucette had destroyed her home and caused the death of her family. She didn’t care if it was an accident or not. _

_ He.  _

_ Would.  _

_ Pay.  _


End file.
